Barbarossa
by Badgergater
Summary: SG-1 goes in search of a legend. Will they find friend or foe?
1. Chapter 1

Barbarossa

By BadgerGater

Episode: None

Season: Mid S7

Summary: The team goes in search of a legend. Will they find friend or foe?

Rating: Teens

Author's Note: This fic is based upon an actual German legend as Daniel relates in this story. I did take liberties with the time period for that legend, in order to fit it into the Stargate world. Special thanks to Martina for introducing me to the legend of Barbarossa.

P6D-240.

Jack O'Neill sighed, slouching lower in his chair. Numbers, numbers, numbers. Bad enough he had to know his ID number and his social security number and his PIN number and his home phone number and his cell phone number and the phone numbers of his teammates, the base and the general, but on top of all that, he was supposed to deal with the numbers the computer assigned to planets.

Names would be so much easier.

But names they rarely got.

Sure, when you went to a planet that had named itself, like Cimmeria, or one that had been named by someone else like the Tok'ra, then a name was okay. Otherwise, it was just planet some number, or moon some other number, all forgettable. He'd rather every planet had a name, if nothing more than Tom, Rick, or Harry; Curly, Larry or Moe; Chester or even Lester. Something. Anything, as long as it wasn't more numbers.

Jack was suddenly jerked out of his thoughts by an obviously irritated voice.

"Colonel, is this briefing boring you?" General Hammond's tone was serious, his gaze, no, make that a glare, fixed sternly on Jack's face.

The Colonel's attention snapped back to his CO and he straightened in his chair. "Ah, no, Sir, no it's not – boring - not in the slightest. " Truth be told, the briefing wasn't boring, the planet was. The UAV video showed only primitive-looking people garbed in flowing robes of Earth, er, planet-tones of brown and brown and there, woohoo!, even more brown, carrying spears and roughly hewn swords. That didn't bode well for the likelihood of finding any useful weapons or technology on this planet he suddenly dubbed Brown. "Go on, Daniel," Jack ordered, waving a hand at SG-1's archaeologist and attempting to look at least somewhat interested.

At a go-ahead nod from the General, Daniel continued describing the scene as another powerpoint slide flashed across the projector's screen, this one of a village on planet Brown. "From the half-timbered style of the buildings, the markings above the doorways, and the tools and implements we've seen on the tapes, the people appear to be of Germanic origin, with a technology level approximately equivalent to our own Middle Ages," Daniel concluded.

"Ooh, now that's definitely going to help us defeat the Gould," Jack muttered sarcastically. "New and better swords, right? More aerodynamic arrows?" Hammond, not enjoying the comments, glared at him again and this time the Colonel succeeded in reining in his attitude. "So, why are we interested in them?" Jack asked, still leaning back in his chair diffidently as the same time he was surreptitiously checking to be sure that Hammond was duly noting his participation.

"Because of this." Daniel clicked the remote for the projector, and a new photograph appeared on the screen. "The UAV took these pictures of a village at the base of a mountain, about ten clicks from the Stargate." The initial shot showed a small grouping of ordinary-looking wood frame buildings, indistinguishable from the ones Daniel had been gushing over for the last five minutes, but as the camera zoomed in, Jack could make out something new.

There, on the edge of the village, was a large stone statue.

As the focus moved in ever closer, details of the sculpture slowly became clear. It was the image of a large human-looking bearded man, wearing some sort of crown on his head, seated on an ornate chair that might be called a king's throne, and holding in his right hand —

"That's a staff weapon!" Jack suddenly sat up straight, leaning forward to peer intently at the screen, genuinely interested now.

"Definitely, Sir," chimed in Carter with a grin. "The pictures aren't clear enough to show just what he has on his other hand, though," Daniel tightened the focus to give a close-up of the carving's left hand, "but it could be a hand device," she finished.

Daniel nodded his agreement.

O'Neill spun in his chair and addressed the Jaffa faction of SG-1. "Teal'c, have you ever heard anything about this place, this planet," he glanced down at the briefing folder lying on the table in front of him, "ah, P6D-240?"

"I have not, O'Neill. The image is unfamiliar, as is the planetary designation," he stated. "However, there are many minor Goa'uld Lords who hold planets. Some are aligned with the System Lords. Others are not."

Daniel was peering closely at the photo. "There's writing on the stone, but the name is faded and a little difficult to read, especially since it's in the old Germanic script. My best guess is 'Friederich Barbarossa," he offered.

"Barb LaRosa?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"Barbarossa," Daniel corrected. "Barbarossa is—"

Jack was smiling smugly. "Actually, Daniel, I know who Barbarossa is. I've seen the movie-"

Daniel looked surprised. "They made a movie about Barbarossa?"

Jack waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, sure that one with a young Jane Fonda-"

"That was Barbarella, actually, Sir," Carter corrected, trying to hide her smile.

O'Neill looked nonplussed. "I knew that, Carter. Just testing to see if you did." Turning back to Daniel, "So, about this Freddy Barbed Roses fellah?"

"He's a real person from Earth's history. Emperor Frederick the First, was a mighty warrior king who united ancient Germany. Also known as Frederick Barbarossa, he died, rather mysteriously, on his way to fight in a great battle, but beloved by his people, Barbarossa lived on as the subject of numerous legends." SG-1's archaeologist happily launched into full lecture mode. "The name Barbarossa actually refers to his long red beard by the way. The stories vary somewhat but basically, they say that Barbarossa and his warrior knights sleep in a cave deep inside a mountain, sitting at a stone table through which his beard has grown. There he waits for his people to call upon him in their time of need, when he will awaken, and come forth to fight for and protect them, restoring them to greatness."

"Gee, sleeping in a cave, for centuries, have we ever met anyone like that before?" Jack didn't need to mention Hathor's name. "He's inside a sarcophagus, perhaps?"

Daniel nodded. "Perhaps. The tale could very well be about a Goa'uld, although there's nothing about a sarcophagus, just a cave."

"Anything else significant in this legend?" Jack asked. "Any mention of, oh, ah, weapons maybe? Big and honkin', powerful weapons? Guys with glowing eyes? Bad taste in clothes? Over-size egos?"

"Nothing specific," Daniel answered.

"So, Colonel, pack your bags and brush up on your German. SG-1 is going to P6D-240," announced General Hammond.

/-x-\

The following day at 0900 Colorado time, SG-1 stepped through the Stargate. It seemed later in the day when they arrived on the planet, however. Jack would have guessed early afternoon, since the sun seemed pretty straight up overhead. Keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding meadow, O'Neill waited for the rest of his team to emerge one-by-one from the wormhole.

"Nice place," said Daniel, pulling his boonie hat into position atop his head.

"Clear here, Sir," Carter called out, having completed her scan on the right side of the gate.

"All appears to be quiet, O'Neill," Teal'c added just as the gate disengaged with the sudden snap of discharging energy.

The Colonel nodded, adjusting his sunglasses. "Good, then kids. Let's go find Daniel someone to talk to."

/-x-\

They walked for an hour on a trail that the UAV had shown would lead them to the village with the statue. The countryside was quiet and they made good progress across the forested, rolling hills, following a path that seemed to have been well used at some time in the past, but currently was overgrown by weeds and grass. It snaked across an open valley floor, then took them into the forest of tall, fragrant pines.

Sometime in mid-afternoon, still miles from their destination, they unexpectedly met the natives.

/-x-\

The team was traveling in their standard formation — Teal'c on point, Daniel and Carter in the middle, and Jack on their six when the quiet forest suddenly wasn't so quiet anymore.

There was no inkling of trouble. One minute SG-1 was alone, walking easily through the woods and the next, without warning, they were under attack.

The first arrow whipped through the air a few inches from Teal'c's head. Even as the Jaffa dropped to a crouch and brought his staff weapon up, pointing it toward the forest, another arrow tore into the ground at his feet.

The shots had come from behind a cluster of rocks. While the arrows were still in the air, Jack was already firing his P-90, his bullets purposely aimed high to frighten, not kill. The warning shots might have been the reason that only one of the thick volley of arrows that followed hit its mark. The airborne missiles whistled through the air around SG-1, one hitting Carter's backpack and bouncing harmlessly off of it. Realizing his team was in a far too exposed position, O'Neill quickly scanned the area for cover. "Over there!" Jack shouted, pointing left where a scattering of low rocks amid the trees would give them at least some protection.

At his command, they spun and ran, Daniel and Carter on Teal'c's heels. His P-90 chattering loudly in the quiet forest, Jack poured another volley toward the attackers hiding place as he covered his retreating team, then turned to follow them.

He didn't see the arrow that hit him; it came from a totally new direction, far to his right. Jack heard it whistle through the air a split second before the razor-sharp tip buried itself into his calf.

"Arrgghhh!" he shouted, and went down, hitting the ground, rolling, scrambling on hands and knees toward shelter as he felt warm blood already trickling down his leg.

Daniel had reached cover and turned just in time to see his CO get hit. "Jack!" He started to rise, but Teal'c pushed him down and ran back to help the Colonel.

Arrows buzzed through the air around the Jaffa as he hurried to help O'Neill, and bullets snapped overhead as Carter provided covering fire.

Teal'c grabbed the Colonel's jacket and pulled the Tau'ri upright. Together, they staggered a dozen steps to the shelter of a large tree, hunkering down behind it.

"O'Neill, are you badly injured?" Teal'c asked, turning to fire toward the attackers.

Jack was down on the ground, rolling onto his belly to bring his P-90 to bear in the firefight. He could feel blood soaking his pantleg but he could wiggle his toes, even if it hurt like hell to do so. "Oh, no. I'm fine. Just another alien," he triggered a burst from his weapon, "poking another hole in me — hey!" He twisted to fire at an attacker who was trying to flank them to the right. The man went down, writhing, and Jack fervently hoped it was the same SOB who'd just shot him. After all, fair was fair.

And then Jack saw more movement from the far right.

"Teal'c! They've got reinforcements on the way. Three o'clock," he announced their position. "I think they're trying to flank us."

Even as he fired his weapon, the Colonel was assessing the situation, and the assessment was not good. Already outnumbered, the enemy was now trying to maneuver around them, and reinforcements were moving in.

The situation was not looking good for SG-1.


	2. Chapter 2

Barbarossa PART TWO

The newcomers' first shot took them totally by surprise. Not that O'Neill wasn't expecting the latest arrivals to join the fight, because he was. It was just that Jack expected they'd be firing *at* SG-1.

They weren't.

Instead, the newcomers flanked the dug-in attackers and opened a deadly crossfire with their oddly curved crossbows.

Within minutes, the attackers fled.

Jack, still lying flat on the ground, kept a finger on the trigger of his P-90 as the new arrivals stepped forward.

Their leader strode out of the trees, hands held wide, his crossbow held loosely in one hand and pointed peacefully downward. "Greetings and blessings, travelers!"

Daniel began to ease forward, out of the sheltering brush.

"Careful Daniel!" Jack hissed, his P-90 aimed at the center of the native's chest.

Daniel ignored the warning, stepping fully into the open, his hands also spread wide. "Greetings friend!" he repeated. "Thank you for your assistance."

The native dropped to one knee. "I am Johan, and these are my men. There is no need for you to thank us; it is our honor to assist the servants of our Lord. You have come bearing news of the king? We are most anxious for his arrival."

"Uh-oh," Jack mumbled under his breath.

"Please," Daniel was motioning at the man to rise as he smiled and tried to copy Johan's slight bow. "I am Daniel Jackson, this is Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Teal'c. We are just peaceful, humble travelers, here to learn about your people and your customs."

The leader was smiling as he rose. The native turned to the forest, waving a signal with his hand, and men began to emerge from the trees until two dozen or more stood in the clearing. Like their leader, they carried bows and long knives and were clad in green and brown clothing that had camouflaged them in the forest. "I understand your wish to travel without revealing your mission, but you may speak plainly to us. We know of your true reason for being here, though we had been expecting a much larger party. You are plainly the king's men, though we had not expected you so soon, even before the call was made. When will the King arrive?" Johan asked hopefully.

Daniel was looking perplexed, which wasn't doing anything to help calm Jack's already over-the-top nerves. The Colonel threw his teammate a warning glance, deciding the best way to avoid answering was to counter with another question. "And just how do you know we are the King's men?" O'Neill asked carefully.

"By the weapon he carries, of course," the leader pointed at Teal'c's staff weapon. "Only the king's men carry the royal war staff. Though I admit your other weapons are unfamiliar to us. The legend of the king does not tell us of such loud noisemakers."

"Loud *and* effective," Jack was smiling, but there was tension in his voice. Teal'c had given the Colonel a hand up, and he was standing now, leaning against the tree they'd taken cover behind. Jack was feeling a little wobbly, but the barrel of the P-90 didn't waver. It was aimed casually, but firmly, at the native leader, just in case. "You don't have any of the king's weapons?" the Colonel questioned carefully.

"Only his royal warriors are allowed to carry them," the young man answered.

"Then what's that?" Jack pointed to a staff-weapon like device one of the natives was carrying.

The leader waved at the man carrying the staff, who brought it forward.

Closer now, Jack could see that it wasn't real - it was made of wood, perfectly carved to resemble a staff weapon.

"It is the symbol of my office," said the native, proudly.

"Which is?" Daniel asked.

The native bowed and stated, "I am the Warden of Hannver. Welcome to our land."

"Hannver? That's the name of this land?" Daniel asked.

"Ya," Johan answered, staring at them suspiciously. "You do not know of Hannver?"

"Of course we know of Hannver. But you can appreciate that we must be cautious in revealing ourselves," Daniel ad-libbed.

"Oh, yes, very cautious," Jack agreed.

"Then you are - ?" Johan asked.

"Messengers," Jack replied.

"Just a moment, Johan," Daniel stepped closer to SG-1's CO, his voice low enough that the natives couldn't hear. "Jack, we should be careful about this."

"I'm always careful, Daniel." Jack whispered back.

"We might not want to do this. Pretending to be who we're not - "

"I know, I know."

"- could be dangerous."

"And not being who they want us to be could be even more dangerous. Remember, bad guys, ambush, arrows?" He waved a hand down at his still bleeding leg. "Us being outnumbered?" Jack's voice was still low. "We need these people. At least for now."

Daniel still looked skeptical, but he nodded. "Okay." Turning back to Johan. "Please, pardon us. We are in an unfamiliar land, far from home. We must use care in all that we do."

"We understand." Johan seemed to accept the explanation. He pointed at Jack's P-90. "Your weapon is strange, as is your manner of dress."

"You might say that," Jack's tone was still wary.

"But we are not strangers," Daniel added. "We have come a very long way, through the Stargate actually, to meet you." When the natives didn't seem to recognize the word he added, "The chapa-ai?" he pointed back the way they had come, and drew a circle in the air. "The big round ring. The Stargate. We use it to travel to new places, to learn about people, their cultures and their ways."

"There are legends of such travelers appearing from the ring, though we did not anticipate the messengers of the king would arrive through it," said Johan, looking suddenly puzzled, and maybe a bit wary, Jack worried.

"Well, messengers need to use whatever transport is available," Jack suggested. "And you say you've had other travelers through the ring-thingy?"

Johan nodded.

"Recently?" Carter asked.

"It was many, many years ago, before the time of my grandfathers," answered Johan. "We had come to believe such stories were only old tales told to amuse the children, and that the ring was indeed merely cold, dead stone."

"You have other interesting legends," Jack interjected. "Especially the ones about that Barber fella."

Johan spun to face him, suspicion clouding his expression. "You ask me about Barbarossa?"

"We merely wish to learn what you know," Daniel explained quickly.

The native leader nodded, accepting Jackson's explanation. "I understand. In these perilous times, even the king's messengers must use caution. There are enemies everywhere."

"Oh, yes," Jack agreed, "we encounter many enemies."

"Barbarossa is known and acclaimed in many lands," Daniel added quickly. "We know the tales of his pledge to protect his people. We wish to know what *you* know of him."

"And of his great abilities as a warrior," Jack added.

"Actually, we'd really like to meet him," Carter suggested.

"You have not met him?" Johan's tone turned suddenly skeptical. The men standing behind him were now whispering among themselves, raising their weapons and looking anxious.

Jack was suddenly worried.

"We have not had the privilege of meeting him in person," said Daniel, covering quickly.

"But you are his messengers. You carry his sacred weapon. How can this be?"

"We are travelers, come in search of Barbarossa, hoping for the honor of meeting him," Daniel finished.

The native took a step back. "But the weapon - "

"It was given to Teal'c long, long ago," Daniel ad-libbed.

Teal'c nodded. "It is an honored and respected weapon among my people, carried only by the best of our warriors."

There was sudden disappointment in Johan's tone. "Then you do not come to tell us of the arrival of the king?"

"No, we come in search of him," Daniel admitted. "We too wish to meet him."

"Indeed, we would treasure the opportunity to meet such a great warrior," Teal'c suggested.

"To join in your battle," Daniel offered, hoping that would sway the skeptical native leader.

Jack threw him a dirty look. Volunteering SG-1 as participants in a local war, on a planet where they really didn't know who the good guys were, if there even were any, wasn't what he would have done. More than once in the past they'd discovered that walking blindly into a conflict and taking sides was not wise. Then again, they couldn't afford to be abandoned by their rescuers, either, not under the present circumstances — hostiles in the area, and with him being hurt.

Johan looked from one to the other, and with relief O'Neill saw the man's tension ease, his shoulders slump ever so slightly. "Perhaps we shall all have that opportunity. Barbarossa's promise is our last hope, and if you are not the vanguard of his forces, then we must continue on, to make our plea for his aid." He sighed. "We have tarried here too long; we must leave this place quickly. The unusual noise of your weapons may well attract more of the enemy."

"We cannot depart. O'Neill is injured," Teal'c stated.

"I have a healer who may assist." Johan started to signal a man forward.

"We'll do our own first aid," Jack refused. In a whisper, he ordered, "Teal'c, keep watch. As inconspicuously as you can." Raising his voice and reaching out a hand, he added, "Daniel, help me here, huh?" Leaning now on Jackson's shoulder, Jack limped a few steps over to the shade of one of the tall trees and eased himself carefully to the ground at a spot where he could watch the locals. He half sat, half reclined on his left side, bracing himself with his left arm, the arrow sticking out of the right side of his calf, pointed downwards.

Carter already had the first aid kit out and opened. Carefully, she used her knife to slit his BDUs from the ankle up the calf, around the wound, and on to his knee, peeling back the cloth to reveal the site of the injury. It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. The point had skimmed the surface of his shin, slicing open the skin before piercing the Colonel's calf about halfway between the knee and ankle, at a downward angle. The exposed part of the wound, on the front of his leg, was shallow, but not so where the arrow had buried itself in his flesh. The razor-sharp metal tip had penetrated into the muscle, the very tip just ever so slightly exposed.

A few drops of blood seeped from the ragged gash that was several inches long, and more trailed from the tip.

Now that the initial shock had worn off, and the adrenaline spike from both the fight and the tension of their meeting with their rescuers had dissipated, Jack could no longer ignore the pain pulsing upward in sheeting waves. He closed his eyes for a long moment. "How about doing something helpful here, eh, Carter? I'm just not real fond of the pincushion look, you know?"

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." She reached out a hand to touch the arrow's feathered end that protruded half a foot from his flesh.

Just that light touch sent another sharp wave of agony rolling through him. He yelped and bit his lip.

Carter was studying the wound. "First aid protocol says that we really shouldn't remove this out here in the field, Sir."

Part of him knew that was medically correct. The other part knew that he was miles from the gate with hostiles in the neighborhood, and no time to play the invalid. O'Neill looked down at the wound, seeing the protruding arrow tip. "Well I can't walk around like this. Push it through."

She looked up at him, her eyes very big. "Sir?"

"Jack, I don't think that's such a good idea - " Daniel, kneeling beside her, started to agree.

"Daniel, I'm sure that Doc would tell us it's the wrong thing to do," Jack snapped, "but we're out here and she's back home, and this is just cut—"

"It could start bleeding a lot more, Sir," Carter warned. "It's a basic rule of First Aid not to remove embedded objects."

"Carter, I know, but I can't hardly go walking around like this, now can I? I'll take the chance. Do it," he ordered.

"Sir, I - "

"Carter, we don't have time to argue about this. Daniel, cut the shaft."

Carter watched as Daniel used his knife to carefully score the shaft about an inch above the skin. Done, he looked at Jack and when the man nodded, Daniel snapped the thin wood.

"Agghhh, god!" Jack fell back to lay flat on the ground, covering his face with one hand. "Agghhh. Damn that hurts."

"You okay?" Daniel asked, concerned.

"Peachy," he snarled. "Now the rest."

Daniel hesitated. "Jack, I agree with Sam. I don't think removing the arrow is the best - "

"Oh for cryin' out loud." Jack reached down and slapped the end of the now-shortened shaft, forcing the rest of the arrowhead to cut through the skin as it exited. Fresh blood poured out of the wound. "Pull it out the rest of the way," he demanded through gritted teeth.

Daniel grasped the bloody tip and pulled as Carter poured disinfectant over it.

Jack let out a strangled sob, dropping down flat on the ground, one fist pounding at the dirt as he covered his face with his other hand. "Gawd, oh, gawd."

Carter watched her CO, listening to his harsh breathing as he fought for control. "Sir, I think we should get you home."

The Colonel lifted his hand away from his face to stare at his 2IC. "Go home?"

"Yes, Sir. This wound - "

"Bandage it, and we'll go."

Johan was suddenly beside them, a worried look on his young face. "Are you done, travelers? We must go. My scouts have returned to tell me a large enemy force is approaching."

"Do you not have your own reinforcements to call upon?" Teal'c asked.

"No. We are far behind enemy lines."

Jack uncovered his face and stared up at the native. "Behind enemy lines?"

"Yes. This territory around the stone ring is no longer safely under the control of Hannver. It is patrolled by our enemies, the wild tribes of the west, with whom we are at war. My men and I, we are only passing through."

"To where?" Carter asked as she wrapped a bandage around O'Neill's calf.

"We are on quest to the mountains, to call upon Barbarossa for aid."

"Kyffhäuser," Daniel suggested.

Johan beamed and nodded. "Yes, Herr Jackson, you know of the sacred mountain, Kyffhäuser! The king awaits us there. We must awaken him."

"You have other allies there?" the Colonel asked, grimacing as Carter finished tying off the bandage.

"Only Barbarossa, and his warriors. They are all we need," Johan answered confidently.

Daniel was always curious. "Have you met him before, yourself, Johan?"

"No, no. He has been sleeping in the mountains for generations. My four times grandfather was just a boy the last time Barbarossa came to our aid."

"And you think he's not dead?" Jack asked incredulously.

The young warrior shook his head. "No. He slumbers there, awaiting the call of his people, to come forth and help us in our time of need as he has promised."

"But you do know where to find him?" Daniel asked.

"Yes," Johan sounded confident. "For these many generations, we have passed down the knowledge from father to son, of what must be done to summon him when his help is needed. It is the job of the warden to call forth our king's aid," he added, proudly.

Jack just had to ask. "Just one question. Does your knowledge include a description? Like whether there's something odd about his eyes?"

Johan smiled and nodded eagerly. "You truly know his story, then. It is said his eyes glow with an unearthly light.

Jack fell back onto the ground with an exaggerated groan. "A gould. Oiy."

Just then another of the natives hurried up to join them, whispering something into Johan's ear. The Hannver leader nodded and turned quickly back to SG-1. "Time is short, strangers, we must depart now. Are you able to travel?" he asked, looking down at O'Neill.

Jack nodded. "Help me up." Teal'c gripped O'Neill's offered hand and the Colonel levered himself upright, keeping all his weight on his good leg. He steadied himself, and tentatively placed his foot on the ground. It hurt, yes, but with relief he realized he could walk on it. "Nothing damaged beyond repair," he told his worried team.

Johan nodded. "Good."

"I'm not sure how far he'll be able to travel," Carter worried.

Jack threw her a dirty look. "I'll go as far as necessary."

"You could have some muscle damage here, sir, and walking increases the risk of greater blood loss."

The Colonel scowled. "I'll go as far as necessary, major."

Johan simply nodded. "You have only to walk as far as the King's lair, Colonel O'Neill. We have transport home from there. Come, we must move quickly now."

"I need a minute in private, to confer with my people," Jack insisted, waving Johan toward his own men. "We'll be there in a minute."

Johan nodded, looking around apprehensively. "Be quick, then."

The Colonel waited as the native walked away, then turned back to his team. "So?"

"This is perfect. They'll take us to Barbarossa," Daniel's response was quick.

"We don't know if he's friend or foe. Matter of fact, we don't know if they're friend or foe," Jack reminded.

"They saved us," Daniel noted.

"Always a good thing, that. And?" The Colonel looked at the rest of his team.

"We came here to find Barbarossa," Carter reminded him. "Even if he is a Gou'ald, there could be technology we might find useful."

"Perhaps he is not a Goa'uld," Teal'c suggested.

Jack was surprised. "What? The yoho guy *said* his eyes glowed."

"Is not Barbarossa protector of the people here?" Teal'c asked.

Carter grinned, catching Teal'c's inference. "Then he might be a Tok'ra."

"Indeed." Teal'c almost smiled.

Jack frowned. "You better be right, kids."

As soon as SG-1 was ready to go, the natives headed into the forest, setting a brisk pace. Normally, SG-1 would have had no trouble keeping up. But things weren't normal. Jack was doing his best, limping grimly along with the help of a steadying hand from Daniel or Teal'c. They traveled for hours, while the sun slid toward the horizon and the light began to grow dim, climbing steadily through the foothills toward the mountain that towered above them.

Finally, as darkness descended, Johan called a halt. "We have traveled far enough for today."

"Sure you don't want to go further?" Jack wasn't sure the natives would catch his sarcasm. "We could probably walk another few hundred miles."

"No, we will rest here and begin the final leg of our journey early in the morning. We will need daylight to find the cave."

"We're that close?" Carter asked.

Johan waved to the mountain that towered high above them. "This is our destination, Kyffhauser, the mountain where our King waits to be awakened."

"We're going to climb that?" Daniel asked unhappily, looking up.

"We will not need to climb. The caves are nearby, in the base of the mountain. We shall depart at first light."

"We'll be ready," Jack promised.

Johan nodded, and walked over to join his men.

SG-1 made their own camp adjacent to the natives'. While the locals ate a cold dinner, the team wolfed down hot MREs.

"Sir, maybe you shouldn't," Carter suggested.

"Shouldn't what, Major?"

"Go into the caves, Sir."

Jack lifted his chin. "And why not?"

"You're injured, Sir."

"It's minor. Besides, I am *not* going to sit out here on my butt while all of you go exploring."

"Maybe you should stay here," Daniel chimed in. "This could be a strenuous hike, not to mention the mountain climbing before we get to the caves."

"What, I'm not up to strenuous?" Jack glared at the younger man.

"I didn't say that. I just said, well, that you are hurt. And walking on that leg, scrambling around in a cave, isn't going to help it get better."

"Well, I wasn't expecting it to get better."

"There could be significant infection in that wound, Sir," Carter suggested. "You could rest here while we go the rest of the way with the locals."

"No way. Resting here won't stop an infection. Besides," he looked around at the dark forest, "there are bad guys out here, Carter," he added, smugly.

"There could be bad guys in there," Daniel pointed out.

"Could be, but here, it's for sure. And I'm *not* letting you guys have all the fun."

"It might not be fun, Sir."

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's always fun, Carter. Just ask Teal'c."

The Jaffa nodded, but said nothing.

With their plans decided, SG-1 turned in early.

The Colonel woke when he heard Teal'c quiet movements as he stirred the fire back to life and put on coffee. The morning air was so cold Jack could see his breath as he climbed awkwardly out of his sleeping bag, cursing at the stiffness in his leg.

"How is your injury this morning, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

"Oh, fine. Just a little," Jack grunted as he worked to bend the limb far enough to pull on his boots, "stiff."

"That is to be expected when one is injured."

"Really?"

"Indeed."

By the time the sun cleared the horizon, SG-1 was done with breakfast, their gear packed and they were ready to travel. Most of the items from Jack's pack had been transferred to Teal'c's, making it easier for the injured man to travel.

The natives were also ready, and with Johan once again leading the way, they hiked deeper into the mountains.

O'Neill walked carefully, stretching his leg, working out the stiffness which had set in overnight until he was only limping slightly. He'd put on a fresh bandage this morning and, while there'd been some blood and discharge on the old one, he'd taken the antibiotics from his First Aid kit and two of the Extra-Strength Tylenol. His leg still ached steadily, but the pain level was manageable.

They walked quietly through the forest of towering pines. Through the occasional gap in the trees, they could see a patch of blue sky or a bit of the snow-covered mountain peak high above them. Birds called in the distance, but otherwise, the forest seemed quiet and empty.

All in all, it seemed very much like Colorado, Jack mused silently. Except, of course, he'd never been skewered by an arrow in the woods in Colorado.

It was a pleasant enough hike. Around noon, they paused for a brief rest, and shortly after they resumed their journey, Johan turned off the path and into the dense forest. He led them unerringly away from the trail, winding through the trees along the edge of a massive rock outcropping that towered hundred of feet above their heads.

Jack couldn't see any path or signs, but the native leader seemed confident of his route, so O'Neill was willing to follow.

Finally, after more than an hour, they reached a narrow, rocky draw, little more than a crevice in the rock face. The entrance was so small that Teal'c had to turn sideways to enter. Once inside, it widened slightly but not much - Jack still could have reached out and touched both sides with his outstretched arms. He looked up, the walls seeming to angle dizzyingly inward with the weight of the mountain looming above, the sides seeming to touch high above them. Only a narrow strip of light filtered down to break the gloom of the damp, cramped space as they pushed their way through lush, shoulder-high ferns.

There was no evidence that anyone had traveled this way recently. In fact, Jack could see no sign that anyone had ever been here.

The path was steep and littered with a scattering of larger rocks and other debris that seemed to have fallen from the cliffs above. The only sound was the men's footsteps on the gravel path, and the harsh breathing as they climbed.

Jack limped along, at times bracing himself against the rock walls for support.

At last, Johan called a halt. They seemed to have reached a dead end, but the native leader was running his hands over the stones in a gesture that was familiar to Jack. It was the kind of thing he'd seen Daniel do a thousand times as the archaeologist used his fingers to examine carvings.

Suddenly, Johan's hands stopped and he smiled.

There, on the rock, was an ornate carving.

Johan chanted a long string of words Jack didn't understand.

"It's old German. He's calling on the gods for permission to enter," Daniel whispered, translating for his teammates.

Johan's expression was intense as he finished the phrase and touched the symbols before standing back expectantly, his men standing hushed around him.

Nothing happened.

After a moment, Johan's face took on a troubled look and he muttered something to the man standing beside him. Then, with a nod, he repeated the phrase and finished by touching the carved symbol.

Once again, nothing happened.

Johan's puzzled expression turned to one of worry, the look mirrored by his men.

He tried again, but with the same result.

"Maybe he should try 'open sesame'?" Jack suggested snidely.

Daniel frowned, his expression clearly disapproving of the colonel's snarkiness. "Give him a chance, Jack."

Johan was trying for the fourth time now, and again, nothing happened.

O'Neill's patience was wearing thing. "Did anyone ever tell him that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result? Huh?"

Daniel threw him a look and Jack simply glared back.

Johan, ignoring SG-1, was trying again.

When for the fifth time nothing happened, the colonel had had enough. He squeezed past the natives to confront Johan. "Problem, Ali Baba? Door's broken? The lock jammed?"

"I do not know why it will not open," Johan admitted. Resolutely ignoring the way O'Neill was glaring at him, he began chanting again.

"Oh for cryin' out loud," Jack muttered, thinking it was about time to call on Teal'c and his staff weapon to have a go at the barrier, or maybe just pull the C-4 out of his backpack. As he turned back toward his team, the colonel's injured leg flashed with pain and buckled, and he threw his hand out to brace himself against the rock wall. His open palm slapped across the carved symbols just as Johan finished speaking.

Suddenly, from deep inside the rock, there was a loud groaning sound. The group went silent, every eye riveted on the cold stone.

"Sir, how did you do that?" Carter asked, looking from the stunned natives back at SG-1's CO.

Jack shrugged, looking down at his hand, flexing it before looking back up at her. "Guess he just didn't hit it hard enough. Probably stuck or something."

Carter looked like she was going to say something more when the stone groaned again, followed by a long cracking noise. For a long moment nothing happened and then very, very slowly, with a grinding noise like the mountain was breaking apart, a thin crack appeared in the solid rock wall.

Johan's men watched in awe, and SG-1 in surprise, as the gap slowly expanded until it outlined a doorway, and then, with a final tremendous groan, the portal swung open.

Inside, there was pitch darkness, blacker than the darkest night.

A puff of air escaped, smelling musty, damp and old.

The door was now open.

13


	3. Chapter 3

Barbarossa PART THREE

The natives lit their torches and entered, SG-1 following close behind, flashlights in hand. They followed a narrow passageway that meandered about a hundred yards before ending in a natural open space with stalactites and stalagmites. Again, Johan unerringly led them into a back corner to a narrow tunnel that opened into a larger room.

On the far wall was a carving of a tall, human-appearing, bearded man, dressed in armor, holding a staff weapon in one hand and a spear-like weapon in the other, pointing to his left.

Johan led them to the right, and into another tunnel.

The first thing O'Neill noticed was that this tunnel was far too straight and symmetrical to be natural and with a honeycomb pattern he recognized. Jack walked over and patted the wall, turning to his teammate with a smirk. "Hey, Carter, does this look familiar?"

"These look like Tok'ra tunnels, Sir," she agreed. "Teal'c?"

"I concur, O'Neill, these appear to be made by Tok'ra crystals."

"Therefore?" Jack asked.

"Therefore it is likely Barbarossa is a Tok'ra, Sir," Carter suggested.

"A Gould could have stolen crystals from the Tok'ra," Jack countered.

"I have seen Goa'uld use similar technology to create tunnels," Teal'c stated.

"So, no proof then," Jack surmised, disappointed.

They walked for half an hour more, following the natives' flickering torches.

Suddenly, the procession stopped. Jack could hear conversation ahead of him, voices raised. O'Neill pushed forward, limping past the natives until he arrived at the front of the group.

Johan and his officers stood, staring in shock.

The tunnel was blocked, the clean lines of the tunnel choked with rubble.

Carter dropped down on one knee, examining the fallen rock. "This looks like a natural cave-in, Sir."

O'Neill turned to Johan. "So, now what? A detour?"

The native shook his head, looking distraught. "This is the Path. I do not know of any other route to reach the chamber where Barbarossa sleeps."

"Does that mean there are none, or that you just don't know of one?" Jack pressed.

"I do not know," Johan looked down, admitting his lack of knowledge. "Since the days of my childhood, I studied at the knee of my father, learning the ancient teachings of the wardens which have been passed down from father to son for hundreds of years. They tell of the True Path to the Hidden Lair, but there are no alternatives."

"You've never been here before? Never tried to do any exploring? Scope out the neighborhood? Check the validity of the directions? Look for, gee, maybe rockslides?" O'Neill knew that his sarcasm was showing, but it was looking like they'd just taken a long, long hike for nothing.

"This is a sacred place, a place of great power, to be entered only when our need is great," Johan countered defensively. "One does not journey here for idle curiosity."

"Yeah and I don't imagine this world has MapQuest, either," the Colonel snapped.

"So would your father or your brothers or anyone else know of any alternatives? Any other entrances?" Daniel suggested.

Johan shook his head no. "I have no brothers, and my father long ago passed on to the land of the gods. Only I was taught the Path, and how to wield the Power."

Jack rolled his eyes and looked at his team, but none of them seemed to have any answers. "So, now what, kids, we just throw up our hands and go home? That really doesn't work for me."

"Sir," Carter spoke up. "We've passed a lot of other passages. This mountain seems to be riddled with natural tunnels and caves. We might be able to find a way around."

"We could become lost in the darkness," muttered one of Johan's warriors, sounding frightened.

"No, not if we mark our way," Carter assured them.

The first tunnel they tried, seeming to lead in the right direction, was also blocked by the rock fall. They retreated and tried another, but this one seemed to curve away from the direction they needed to go.

Returning to the original path once more, they tried a third route with no luck.

On the fourth try, they found a passage that seemed promising. It wasn't straight like the crystal made tunnels, but seemed to follow some natural fissures in the rock, wandering aimless but leading more or less in the direction they wanted to go.

After half an hour, the tunnel began to narrow. Jack called a halt. "What do you think?" he asked. "Carter?"

"It seems like we're still heading basically in the right direction, Sir."

"Anyone else? Teal'c?"

"I believe MajorCarter is correct."

"Johan?"

"Once we left The Path, the teachings of my forefathers provide no assistance," Johan admitted. "But we do appear to be traveling in the proper direction."

Jack nodded. His own well-honed sense of direction had told him the same. "So let's go."

They walked on further, in single file, the tunnel twisting and turning until it joined with another natural fissure.

"Sir?" Carter's hesitant tone caught the Colonel's attention.

"What?"

"Sir, I'm, ah, not sure where to go from here."

"You're not sure?"

"No, Sir."

"You mean we're lost, Carter?"

"Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir, we should be able to find our way back out easily enough. But I'm not sure which way to find Barbarossa."

The tunnels were wider here, their junction forming an open space the size of Jack's living room.

"Okay, let's take ten and consider our options."

They were all exhausted. Sinking down to sit on the floor, they pulled out provisions and water. SG-1 turned out their flashlights to conserve the batteries, leaving the tunnel lit only by the flickering light of the torches carried by the locals.

With his teeth, Jack tore open an energy bar and devoured it, washing it down with water from his canteen before swallowing another dose of Tylenol. Once they'd eaten and rested, they climbed back to their feet. "Suggestions?" the Colonel asked, looking around at his team.

It was Carter who spoke up first. "I think we should go a little further, Sir. Down that way." She pointed to the left.

The tunnel they'd been following was beginning to slant downward. Right, his instincts said, would take them back toward the cave in, so left seemed logical.

They resumed walking.

After twenty more minutes, the group reached a large cavern which seemed to be a junction point. Again, a half dozen tunnels led out of the room, angling off in all directions.

Unfortunately, thought O'Neill, none were marked with a sign reading 'this way to the redbearded alien king guy.'

"Now which way?" Jack looked around but no one seemed to know. "Johan?"

The native leader shook his head.

Carter walked around the room, turning her head this way and that as if listening, then suddenly, she stopped and pointed down one of the tunnels. "That way," she said.

"Because?" Jack asked.

She shrugged. "It's that way. I just — know — sir."

"I am in agreement, O'Neill," Teal'c added.

Jack looked from one to the other, baffled. "And you know this how?"

Carter rolled her eyes, obviously uncomfortable with her answer. "Sir, actually, for the last few minutes, I think I've been sensing him. Them. It."

"Sensing who, or what, or whatever?"

"It's a what, sir. Naquadah. Ever since Jolinar, Sir, you know I've been able to sense the presence of symbiotes, though I can't distinguish whether they're Jaffa, Goa'uld or Tok'ra. And this, it's very slight, but there is something."

"So you're using your," the colonel made air quotes around his next two words, "symbiote radar on our buddy Bellarossa?" he asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Barbarossa," Carter corrected. "And yes, Sir, I 'know' someone, or something, is that way," she insisted.

"Could it be something else?" Jack looked from her to Teal'c and back to his 2IC.

"I don't know what it is for sure, but it's only logical that it's Barbarossa, or his men."

"If we believe his legend."

"That's why we're here, isn't it? Because we believe them?"

The colonel shrugged. "We're here to look."

"Sir," Carter shook her head, and pointed at the tunnel again. "There's definitely a — presence - that way."

"I agree, O'Neill," Teal'c approved. "I too feel the presence, though barely."

Jack lifted his chin. "So if you two can sense where there's a gould or tok'ra or whatever, then why have we been stumbling around in here for hours?"

"I didn't realize what I was sensing, Sir. The feeling isn't something specific, it's just a vague sensation, and it took me a while to realize what it could mean. And the feeling here, it's stronger now than it was, so we must be getting closer."

"So you're sure now?"

"Yes, Sir. As sure as I can be."

"Okay then, that way it is, campers."

Teal'c led the way into the dark passage, flashlight in one hand, staff weapon poised for action in the other. Daniel and Carter followed with Jack limping alongside Johan and the rest of the natives trailing after.

As Jack walked, he suddenly remembered another trip he and Teal'c had made through a cave and stopped abruptly. "Hey, this Barbarossa fellah, he's not an Unas, is he?"

"What is an Unas?" Johan asked.

"Big and honkin' ugly, not quite human … thing," Jack replied. "Sort of lizardish."

Johan shook his head. "I have never heard of such a thing."

"I'm sure there's no Unas, Sir," Carter laughed.

"You can tell?" the colonel asked.

Daniel answered, "Jack, the statue was definitely of a human."

"Barbarossa is a mighty warrior. He is no alien lizard creature," Johan insisted.

"Well, not on the outside," Jack murmured, knowingly. He waved a hand, "So, as long as that's settled, Yoho, lead on."

A few hundred paces and they reached the junction with another shaft, this one an unnatural, obviously human or alien made one. Jack shown his light back along it and spotted debris. "Looks like we're past the rockfall, campers."

Johan was shining his torch around, peering closely at the walls, stopping suddenly, a smile appearing on his face as he pointed to a tiny symbol carved into the rock. "Here! This is a marker. We have returned to the path." Confident once again, he strode quickly forward.

Ten more minutes and abruptly, the corridor they were following ended, opening into a wide, vaulted chamber. As they moved cautiously forward, the chamber walls began to glow, and then an illuminated path appeared, leading them out into the center of the immense chamber.

Some sort of motion sensors, Jack figured. They'd encountered gould technology like this before, things that to the primitive locals would appear godlike or magical.

Their footsteps echoed as they walked, their boots kicking up small puffs of dust.

"No one's been here for a long time," Daniel noted quietly.

Jack nodded, finger on the trigger of his P-90.

The floor began to slope upward and then, far ahead, something began to take shape out of the shadows. At first glace, in the dim light and from a distance, Jack thought it was just a huge jumble of broken rock fallen from the ceiling far overhead. But as they moved closer, and more lights came on, a figure emerged from the gloom.

Jack's finger tightened reflexively on the trigger of his P-90 then relaxed when he realized the figure was made of stone.

Atop a platform of rock, the larger-than-life size, lifelike figure was seated on an ornate, throne-like chair, next to a table. His long beard trailed across his chest and onto the table, winding around the top and down the legs, almost as if it were grown into the stone itself. He was clad in flowing robes, wearing a crown and holding upright, a staff weapon. On his other hand Jack could make out the outline of a hand device.

His eyes were closed. He looked like a man asleep.

Johan climbed up the five tall steps to stand before the figure, dropped to his knees on the second step from the top, placed his hands on the top step, and began to chant in a language other than English.

"What's he saying?" Jack whispered to Daniel.

"He's calling on the mighty Lord and Emperor Barbarossa to heed the call of his people, to awaken and fulfill his promise to help them in their time of great need," Daniel translated.

Johan paused.

Nothing happened.

There was a look of concern on the young native's face as he began to chant again.

Carter walked quietly behind the prostrate native. Jack could see she was holding one of her measuring doohickies in her hands as she walked around the perimeter of the stone platform. She frowned as she walked back toward O'Neill, studying the readings. "Sir, I'm reading power emissions coming from that thing," she whispered to her CO, pointing with her chin at the statue. "They're very low, but definitely present."

Johan had gone silent again, and, to Jack's eye, appeared to have shifted from concerned to downright worried.

The native leader knelt once more and resumed his chanting. Arrayed behind him, his men were beginning to move about restlessly and whisper among themselves.

"Ah, something amiss, boys?" Jack asked impatiently, stepping forward.

"Barbarossa does not rise," one of the men answered, fearfully.

"Well, maybe he had a long night and he's just a little slow getting started today."

The native looked devastated. "The legends say he will answer our call."

"The gods have forsaken us," muttered another.

"We are lost," chimed in a third.

Johan had tried five times now and finally he stood, turning around to face his men, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. "I have failed my people. I am not worthy."

"Johan, there could be another logical reason," Daniel suggested quietly. "Something might be wrong with the devices that activate the — gods."

"It is possible that the cave-in could have harmed the mechanisms," Carter offered.

"Barbarossa is not a 'mechanism'. He is flesh and blood," Johan insisted.

"Very old flesh and blood." The Colonel had walked over to the base of the platform, peering at it carefully. "He looks like rock to me," Jack slapped the stone, surprised to feel it had a warmth and a soft vibration. "Hey, Carter, check this out."

She walked over and put her hands against the stone, also surprised at the warmth of it. She touched the measuring device she was carrying to the stone, and the dial began to glow, numbers sliding rapidly across the monitor. "There's definitely still power in there, Sir, a lot of power," her voice alive with excitement.

Jack, meanwhile, finished his walk around the statue's base and flopped down on the step where Johan had been kneeling, massaging his aching leg.

The eyes of the statue flashed white.

Jack jumped to his feet, spinning around to stare at the stone behind him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, Sir." Carter was staring at him with wide eyed astonishment which was matched by Daniel's equally dumbfounded look.

"Jack, how did you do that?" Daniel asked softly.

"I didn't do anything," the Colonel insisted.

"You did something, sir," Carter contradicted.

"I didn't do anything," O'Neill repeated. "Must have been a glitch or something. A power spike maybe."

"Johan's been trying with no results for hours," Daniel reminded him with a worried frown.

Jack shrugged. "I just touched this," he reached down to point out where he'd placed his hand, a slight indentation in the stone, "and it — holy buckets!" Once more, the moment Jack's fingers touched the stone, the statue's eyes glowed brightly, then faded.

"Sir, you must be doing something — "

"Carter, I'm not doing anything," he snapped. "I'd know if I was doing something and I'm not. Here, you try it."

O'Neill stepped back and waved the major forward to take his place. Carter stepped up and put her palms on the step, on the same place the Colonel had put his. The stone felt smooth and warm to her touch, but the statue remained dark and lifeless.

She stood, wiping the dust from her hands. "That's odd. Daniel?"

Daniel tried next, with an equal lack of results.

"So why isn't it working?" Daniel asked the question all of them were thinking.

"It doesn't look damaged," Jack assessed.

"Their could be damage to the internal mechanisms," Carter repeated. "If an earthquake caused that cave-in —"

"But it's not broken, it worked for Jack," Daniel reminded.

"Not really," O'Neill disagreed. "The eyes just glowed."

Daniel paused in his pacing, his eyes focused on SG-1's leader. "Jack, it started to activate when you put your hands down on the stairs, but it stopped when you moved."

"Yoho?" Jack directed his question to the warden, whose young face now wore a look of despair. "What exactly is supposed to happen here?"

The native leader stepped forward. "When the people plead for his assistance, Barbarossa answers our call."

"And just how do you call him? Exactly," Daniel asked.

"I must kneel in supplication, speak the words of the calling, and his spirit hears and responds."

"You're sure you spoke the words correctly?" Carter asked.

"As my father taught me, and his father before him, for more generations than can be counted."

"That's a lot of years," the Colonel commented dryly.

"You're sure of the words?" Daniel probed, ignoring Jack's sarcasm.

"Yes. I have repeated them, every day when I rise and every night when I retire, since I learned them as a small boy. It is the duty of the Warden of Hannver."

Daniel was puzzled. "Then why didn't it respond at all to Johan, but it did for Jack?" Daniel raised his eyes, his gaze meeting Sam's and suddenly brightening, an 'ah hah' look of inspiration appearing on his face. "Sam, what's unique about Jack? Different than the rest of us?" he waved a hand at the men of Hannver.

"He's not native to this world," Sam suggested.

"That's true for you and me, too," Daniel countered.

"He's older," Carter suggested.

"And wiser," Jack smirked.

"That's not it." Daniel was almost dancing with impatience, eyes darting from one to another of his teammates.

"He's got gray hair?" she suggested.

"I'm taller," the Colonel offered smugly.

"O'Neill," Teal'c spoke up, confidently, "possesses the Ancient gene."

"Exactly." A look of triumph crossed Daniel's face as he turned back to the Warden of Hannver. "Johan, was your father really your father, I mean, was he your *biological* father?"

Johan looked puzzled. "I do not know this word, biological."

"It means natural. Was he your birth father?"

The native nodded in sudden understanding. "My father sired no sons, so as a baby, I was adopted into his family, to carry on the lineage of the warden. It was a great honor."

"That explains it," Daniel spun back to face Jack. "The wardens possessed the Ancient gene, but Johan doesn't."

"The ancient gene isn't genetic," Jack answered smugly. "Even I know that. It's a random mutation-thingy. It doesn't run in families, right?" he looked over at the Major for confirmation.

"It doesn't on Earth," Carter agreed but added thoughtfully, "but it could be different in this population."

"Or some of this population," Daniel added. "Maybe one of the others?" He turned to Johan's men. "Are any of you close relatives of the Warden's family? A brother, or an uncle?"

None stepped forward, and Daniel tried again. "Anyone related at all? Cousins?" Several men volunteered then, and each tried using the activating spot. Nothing happened. Johan had all the rest of his men try as well, but none got a response.

"I guess it's up to you, Sir," Carter suggested, turning to her CO.

"Me? I don't do magic tricks."

"Yes, you sir. And this isn't magic, as you well know. You're the best shot we've got at the moment," Carter said.

O'Neill rolled his eyes but walked back over to the steps, looking down at the hard stone with distaste. "My knees aren't up to this you know," he complained.

"I'll get you aspirin, Sir," Carter promised.

Jack unclipped his P-90 and stood on the stairs, looking up at the figure seated above. Slowly, he eased down until his knees fit into the slight indentations worn in the stone. "You know, Carter, my back's not gonna like this either."

"Two aspirin then, Sir."

"You do know I don't like this kneeling thing? It never ends well."

"Yes, Sir."

Jack sighed. "After all this, old redbeard better not be a gould," he muttered as he leaned forward and placed his hands on the stone, fingers outstretched.

In the silent cavern, the low hum was clearly audible, echoing around the vast chamber as it increased in magnitude.

Beneath his hands, Jack felt the rock warm, soften and begin to tingle. A bluish glow seeped around his fingers.

The stone figure's eyes flashed and began to shine steadily. For a moment, the eyelids and one hand trembled, and then the glow flickered and faded away.

The statue was lifeless stone once more.

The natives were all staring at one another, talking among themselves.

Jack straightened and knees creaking, stood. "I think the starter's broken."

Carter had that look on her face, the one that indicated her brain was racing through the possibilities at a light year a minute, maybe more. "Wait, Sir. When Johan tried, he knelt *and* chanted. There's probably a sound activation mechanism to go with the Ancient gene requirement," Carter surmised.

"Like activating the door on Aris Boch's ship," Daniel recalled excitedly.

"Exactly," Carter agreed. "You need to try again, Sir."

"Well, I don't know the magic words, and my knowledge of German ends with Oh Tannenbaum," Jack declared.

"You could learn." Daniel countered. "I could teach you the phonetic pronunciation and you could repeat it by rote — "

Jack waved at the statue. "I think we want to get this done *before* our beards get as long as his, huh?"

"What if Johan says the words and the Colonel activates the panel?" Sam suggested.

"This won't work," Jack insisted.

"It might, Sir. Give it a try," she encouraged.

Jack dropped carefully to his knees once more. With Johan standing behind him, he placed his hands on the stone.

The warden began to chant.

The eyes began to glow, the humming grew and intensified, the floor beneath their feet began to shudder.

Either the plan was working, or it was another earthquake, Jack thought. And then he saw it start, one finger of the hand lying on the table twitched, followed by the shoulders straightening slightly with a loud crack! as of shattering stone. The head lifted, the beard fell away, the shoulders rose and with a thunderous roar the hand broke free of the table. Suddenly, the whole body transformed, the stone melting into what looked like a normal human figure, except, of course, for its overlarge size, and the glowing eyes.

The being stood, blinking, looking slowly around the cavern until his gaze came to rest on the quaking natives and the four surprised members of SG-1. "Who calls on Barbarossa?" The resonant tones of a Goa'uld echoed around the chamber.

The red-bearded king had awakened.

"Oh, I really, really hope this wasn't a mistake," Jack whispered into the silence.

12


	4. Chapter 4

Barbarossa  Part FOUR

Johan answered, head bowed, eyes fixed reverently on the floor. "Mighty Lord Barbarossa, your people call. We have need of your aid. Our land, our cities, are under attack from the barbarians of Almador."

SG-1 stepped back, standing side by side at the back of the group, letting Johan and his men speak to the newly awakened being.

Barbarossa suddenly turned, his gaze fixing on O'Neill, his expression turning hard and suspicious as he assessed their unfamiliar clothes and equipment. "You, you are not of this world."

"No, we are not," Jack answered carefully since he wasn't sure if this — being — was a good Go'auld, even though the locals seemed to think so.

"But we are friends, or hope to be," Daniel added diplomatically. "We are peaceful travelers, seeking knowledge."

"And the occasional friend and ally. That is, if you're the friendly type," Jack suggested as he pointed at himself. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force, Earth."

Beside him, Daniel spoke up, adding, "I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson, and that is Major Carter, and he is Teal'c. We are of the Tau'ri, from the planet we call Earth."

The king's glance flicked across Daniel and Carter, then fixed on Teal'c, his eyes flashing. The echoing voice turned distrustful. "You may be of the Tauri, but he is Jaffa."

Teal'c took a step forward, offering a slight, regal bow of his head before answering. "I once served Apophis, but no more. I am an ally of the people of Earth. I fight with them to free my people," he clarified his allegiance.

Barbarossa's furious expression did not change as he slowly walked closer, towering over the members of SG-1, his glare fastened on Teal'c. "You wear the mark of a First Prime. What Master do you serve?" he demanded again.

"I serve no master now, only the quest for freedom."

The being raked an assessing gaze over the Jaffa. "Then Apophis has gone down in defeat?"

"You might say that, but more accurately, you might say he is dead," Jack answered with a confident smile.

Barbarossa turned his frown on the colonel. "Gods cannot be killed."

"We know you aren't gods, not real ones anyway," Jack countered, not bothering to keep the smugness out of his voice.

The alien being studied O'Neill. "You speak boldly, for a Tau'ri."

"I act boldly, too."

"What Goa'uld do *you* serve?"

Jack kept his tone conversational, but his finger stayed on the trigger of his P-90. "I know this is a difficult concept, Barbara Rose, but there are no gould on Earth. We serve no one. We rule ourselves."

The glowing eyes bored into O'Neill. "And you are their leader?"

The Colonel lifted his chin. "I lead this team, yes."

"You are from Earth, which once rebelled?"

"We kicked out the snakes a long time ago, if that's what you're asking," Jack explained. "And we've stayed rebellious. And rather cantankerous, too. We prefer to rule ourselves."

"We're devoted to freedom," Carter interjected.

Barbarossa seemed to consider that answer. "Freedom is a rare thing in this galaxy."

"We have met others interested in freedom," Daniel added carefully. "Like the Tok'ra."

The king's head snapped up, his gaze locking on the face of SG-1's archeologist. "Tok'ra? You know of the Tokr'a?"

"Yes. We know them well," Daniel replied.

"Some of them," the Colonel corrected, thinking too many would be a better answer.

Barbarossa stepped closer and stared down at Major Carter, tilting his head as he seemed to be studying her. "You, you were once blended."

Her face went pale. "Yes, for a short time I was host to Jolinar of Malkshur."

"Jolinar. What did you do to her?" the harmonic voice rang with suspicion.

"She was hunted down and tortured by an Ashrak, but before she died, she set me free."

"Then *you* know who I am."

Sam shook her head. "I only have bits and pieces of her memory."

"Yet you claim to know the Tok'ra."

"I do. My father is joined with Selmak."

"Selmak still lives?"

"He is the oldest and wisest," Jack added. "Or so we've been told."

"He is a leader among the Tok'ra and a member of the Council. And you are?" Daniel inquired.

"I was once known as Tua'mak, but that was long ago, when the Tok'ra were young and had no plan, no organization."

"They do today," answered Daniel.

"Even if they don't accomplish much," Jack muttered before Daniel not at all subtly kicked him in the ankle.

"I have been on this world for many years, and have lost touch with my brethren. The Tok'ra thrive, then?" Barbarossa asked.

"Not exactly. They continue to fight the System Lords, and have suffered many losses. But we have become allies," Daniel explained.

"Then your people are mighty warriors."

"We do okay," Jack agreed, trying not to sound too smug.

"Why are you here on this remote world?" Daniel asked, curious.

"I came to this planet generations ago, sent by the System Lords with humans they kidnapped from Earth and enslaved for the purpose of working the naquadah mines of this world. Instead of dominating and destroying the workers, I determined to use my powers to help the Tau'ri we had brought to this world."

"How very noble of you," O'Neill's comment was sarcastic.

"Yes, it was noble," Daniel contradicted.

"It was so very long ago, I have lost touch with what is happening out there in the universe, and among the rest of the Goa'uld. And the Tok'ra."

"Apparently, they've forgotten you," suggested Daniel.

The bearded alien nodded in agreement. "I was but a minor Goa'uld, my fate of no concern to the powerful System Lords."

"How long have you been here?" Daniel asked.

"I do not know exactly," answered Barbarossa. "Many millennia, I presume. I am old, and my powers are waning. Mostly, now, I sleep, awaiting the call of my people. When they are threatened, they awaken me, and I respond."

"How do you help them?"

"This is a primitive world, and the legend of Barbarossa is strong. The technology I wield is like magic to them. My loyal Jaffa, few though they are, and I simply overpower the invaders, and drive them out. The barbarians once again respect the legend of the sleeping king, retreating into the wildlands for many generations, until I become only a memory they no longer fear, but instead must challenge my power."

"But I don't see a sarcophagus," Carter asked, curious as always about alien technology.

"You know of the sarcophagus?"

"We have seen many," Daniel explained.

Barbarossa nodded, waving a hand around the platform he stood upon. "This is my sarcophagus, or rather, it is a machine similar to one."

"I still don't see it," Sam contradicted, looking around the room.

"The technology is hidden in the chair and the table, and the power source is in the floor. It may appear different than other such devices you may have seen, but the principles are the same," the king explained.

"But how is it done?" Carter was curious as always.

"I do not know," Barbarossa answered. "The device was here when I arrived, left behind by some other ancient Goa'uld. I only know that it works, and works well."

Jack nodded, smirking. "Nice gig then. You snooze for a few hundred years, wake up and kick the bad guys' butts, then retreat for another nap until the next time you're needed."

The king smiled. "That is a crude, but accurate summation, Colonel O'Neill."

"You know, we could use the help of someone like you, in our war against the Goa'uld," Daniel suggested eagerly.

"I would help you if I was able, but I can no longer leave this world," the alien answered, his voice deep with regret. "This place is now my home, and soon, my tomb. I am very, very old, and my powers are weakening with each awakening. I must do what I can for these people, while I still have the strength."

Jack nodded and added hopefully, "Well, if there's anything, you know, any stray technology lying around or anything you don't use anymore, we'd be glad to take if off your hands."

Barbarossa shook his head. "I have nothing to aid the Tau'ri in your fight against the evils of the System Lords, except my wishes for your success."

"And we appreciate that," said Daniel.

"Weapons would be better," Jack mumbled under his breath, disappointed.

"But we understand," Daniel added diplomatically.

Barbarossa waved toward a set of rings embedded in the cave's floor. "I will speed your return to the stone ring, but that is all, then I must provide assistance to the Hann'vers."

"Good luck," Daniel told Johan.

"Thank you for your assistance," the young warden bowed toward SG-1. "We could not have awakened our king without your aid."

"If it's okay, we'd like to send some scientists to help you," Carter offered.

Johan looked puzzled. "Scientists?"

"Scientists," explained Carter, "they're specially trained people who can test your people for the Ancient gene, the abilities needed to open the door and rouse the kind. We'll help you find others who might have the ability."

Johan smiled, bowing slightly. "That would be good. Hann'ver would welcome your sci-en-tists, Major Carter."

Their goodbyes completed, SG-1 moved to stand on the circular markings on the floor, Jack waving at Barbarossa and the natives in the split second before the transport rings activated.

When the rings dissolved, to Jack's relief they found themselves standing just a few hundred yards from the Stargate.

"Dial it up, Daniel," the Colonel ordered, waiting impatiently while the archeologist punched in the address, the gate spun and the wormhole exploded into existence.

As soon as the gate connected and the blue pool appeared, Carter tapped the code into the GDO strapped to her wrist. She waited a beat and then confirmed, "We've got a go, Sir."

Jack took one last quick look around at the planet they were leaving, then waved his team forward, and they walked together into the swirling puddle of blue.

A split second later they stepped out the other side, into the SGC's gateroom where General Hammond stood at the bottom of the ramp, smiling. "Welcome home SG-1. How did your mission go?"

"Oh, it was a very nice trip, Sir," Jack answered. "We met some very friendly natives, took a pleasant hike through the mountains, toured a lovely though rather dark cave, woke sleeping beauty who sadly was no beauty, and had a wonderful chat with a legend."

"Sounds busy, Colonel." Hammond grinned at O'Neill's cheeky answer but his smile quickly disappeared and his tone turned serious when he spotted the bandage wrapped around the Colonel's calf. "Jack, you're hurt."

"Minor, Sir."

"Get on down to the infirmary and get it taken care of, Colonel, and we'll debrief when you've all been cleared by Doctor Fraiser."

Jack touched a hand to the brim of his cap, then limped after the rest of his team. While he couldn't call the mission a complete success, they had after all not found a weapon that would stop the Go'auld, the Replicators or any of their other intergalactic enemies, SG-1 had found another ally, a friend. Who knew, maybe old redbeard could prove valuable someday?

General Hammond watched the four teammates walk away together. This sounded like it would be another interesting field report. Then again, it was SG-1, and interesting was what he expected of them.

- The End -

6


End file.
